


Mandolin Rain

by vernie_klein



Series: Like the Heart Goes [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bobby is the greatest, But it's Supernatural- So he will come back, M/M, My take on what Sam did after Dean died, Part eleven in a Series, Post-Episode: s03e16 No Rest For The Wicked, The feels, There is major character death, poor sammy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vernie_klein/pseuds/vernie_klein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Part Eleven in the Series</i>
</p>
<p>No Rest for the Wicked... Do I need to say more. My Coda.</p>
<p>
  <i>This is the story of Sam and Dean Winchester. Not the story we've seen played out on our television screens a million times, but the story of what happened to get them to where they are today. The story of two brother's souls, so tightly woven together, that neither can be whole.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mandolin Rain

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a song recorded by Bruce Hornsby and the Range. It was written by Bruce and John Hornsby.
> 
> not beta'd. Mistakes are my own. Enjoy.

**Listen to the Mandolin Rain**

“No!” Sam screamed as he ran toward his brother’s dead, bloodied body. He cradled it reverently and sobbed into Dean’s hair. Tears flowed over his reddened cheeks and onto his brother’s rapidly cooling skin. “No…”

Sam rocked his body back and forth, Dean’s blood seeping into Sam’s blue shirt and coating his jeans. He knew he needed to call Bobby, but he couldn’t, not yet. 

Dean had confided in him what happened after Jake had killed him. Sam had laid there in the dark of night octopused in his brother’s arms as he listened to Dean’s anguish, his love- Sam had understood in that moment _exactly_ why Dean had made that Crossroads deal. He knew that Dean had gone into it thinking that he could get ten years. When the Demon put him over a barrel like that, it was Dean’s love- not his selfishness, that caused him to agree to the year. Sam understood that now.

He planted tiny kisses across his brother’s face and hair. Sam slowly closed his eyes and breathed. He caught the coppery sharpness of blood, the smooth smell of the Old Spice that lingered on his skin. Sam took an even deeper breath and smelled the Irish Spring soap Dean had used in his shower that afternoon, the salty tang of Dean’s last orgasm. Sam wondered when that was. He pulled his brother closer to his chest and stood, his thigh muscles straining to compensate for the added weight. He made his way across the room and laid Dean on the couch. Sam kissed his brother one last time and pulled out his phone to call Bobby.

**Listen to the Music on the Lake**

Sam was laying on the couch when Bobby showed up a few minutes later. He refused to leave his brother’s side. “Damn you, idjit.” Bobby cursed as he threw his trucker hat at Sam. 

“Boo hoo for you. You knew this was comin’, had time to prepare. Instead you sit here like a whiney _princess_. Screw you, Sam. You’re not the only one in this family.” Bobby walked over to Sam and pulled him off his brother. “Now, get your lily-white ass up and clean that boy off. Just cause you love him, don’t mean you should rot with him.”

Sam shook his head and scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He spied the bag Bobby dropped at the door on his way in and nodded toward it.

“Everything you need, boy.” Bobby whispered, his voice full of understanding and sadness. “I’m guessin’ he’s not getting a Hunter’s funeral, huh?”

“No, Bobby… He’s not.” Sam sighed as he snatched the bag off the floor and walked back over to his brother. He rooted through the bag and started to pull out items’ taking stock of what Bobby had included. Sam found a grey henley, one of Dean’s favourite pairs of jeans, a new pair of boxer briefs and socks. He pulled out silk thread and a suture kit. He reached in the bag again and almost began crying as he pulled out a bottle of Old Spice. He smiled at the thoughtful addition. “Can you grab me some stuff to clean him up with, Bobby?”

Even though Sam couldn’t see it, he knew Bobby nodded at him before walking into the kitchen. Shortly after Sam opened the suture kit and threaded the curved needle with the silk, Bobby returned with an armload of towels and their trusty green Coleman cooler full of steaming hot water. Sam pulled out his butterfly knife and carefully cut off Dean’s shirts and jeans. He stripped his brother naked and began the painstaking process of cleaning off all of the blood. The Hellhound had really done a number on Dean. His chest was ribbons and his hip wasn’t much better. There were a few defensive wounds on Dean’s arms and one long scratch on his left thigh. Sam sighed in relief that the claw hadn’t marred the tattoo of Sam’s gun on the outside of his leg. He wiped long swipes of the cloth over each wound, pausing to wring the blood out onto the floor. Sam didn’t care what the homeowners thought. They should just be happy that they were saved from the full wrath of Lilith. 

Once the blood was cleaned off, Sam began sewing up each claw mark. He worked with the precision of a plastic surgeon, lining each side of Dean’s tattoo up before starting on the first stitch. Sam spent hours painstakingly putting his brother back together. He poured his love into each and every stitch his fingers made.

**Listen to my Heart Break**

Bobby threw the shovel over to the side and climbed over the edge of the hole. He walked back to the bed of the truck and grabbed a beer from the green cooler. He twisted the top and drank the bottle down in three gulps. Bobby pulled the bandana out of his back pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. He pulled the pine box from the back of the truck and laid it on the ground. He pried the lid off and stood back to wait. 

Sam pulled up in the Impala, Dean’s patched up body by his side. He put the car in park, leaving the keys in the ignition. He stepped from Dean’s Baby and walked over to Bobby. Bobby embraced Sam, one armed quick pats on the back. They both walked back over to the passenger side of the Impala, Bobby holding the door while Sam struggled to manipulate his brother out of the car.

Bobby watched on as tears poured from Sam’s face. He wanted to say something, anything… but knew that Sam wasn’t one for platitudes. He continued to watch on as Sam laid Dean’s body on the box, arranging his hands across his chest. He tucked Dean’s favourite zippo in his front pocket and a picture of the two of them; happier times, Bobby guessed, in his back pocket. He watched as Sam bent down, kissed his brother three times. Once on the forehead, and twice on the lips. Bobby closed his eyes. Not because he found the scene repulsive, no- because he thought it private. Something only meant for the eyes of God, not men.

“I love you, Dean.” Sam whispered. “Bobby too. Well, probably not like me.” 

Sam laughed. Bobby chuckled too, the first lighthearted moment in days. “I’m not one to get in a man’s pants, you idjit. Well, at least not your brother’s.”

“I hope not, Bobby. Even I’m not into Necrophilia.” 

“I got enough on my plate, boy than to worry about you diddling your brother- dead or not.” Bobby shook his head. “Now, are you gonna help me get this in there, or what?”

Bobby picked up one end of the casket and Sam the other. They carried him over to the grave, laid ropes across the expanse and moved the box to lay next to the grave on top of the twisted ropes. Sam took his spot on the opposite side of the grave and picked up the ropes, one in each hand. Bobby signalled for Sam to start pulling after he took up his own side.

Working together, they pulled and gently eased Dean’s casket into the ground. Bobby went to pick up a shovel, but Sam stopped him at the last second. He pried the shovel out of Bobby’s hands and began scooping dirt into the grave.

**Author's Note:**

> **"Mandolin Rain"**
> 
> _The song came and went_   
>  _Like the times that we spent_   
>  _Hiding out from the rain under the carnival tent_   
>  _I laughed and she'd smile_   
>  _It would last for awhile_   
>  _You don't know what you've got till you lose it all again_
> 
> _Listen to the mandolin rain_   
>  _Listen to the music on the lake_   
>  _Oh, listen to my heart break every time she runs away_   
>  _Oh, listen to the banjo wind_   
>  _A sad song drifting low_   
>  _Listen to the tears roll_   
>  _Down my face as she turns to go_
> 
> _A cool evening dance_   
>  _Listenin' to the bluegrass band takes the chill_   
>  _From the air until they play the last song_   
>  _I'll do my time_   
>  _Oh, keeping you off my mind but there's moments_   
>  _That I find, I'm not feeling so strong_
> 
> _Listen to the mandolin rain_   
>  _Listen to the music on the lake_   
>  _Ah, listen to my heart break every time she runs away_   
>  _Oh, listen to the banjo wind_   
>  _A sad song drifting low_   
>  _Listen to the tears roll_   
>  _Down my face as she turns to go_
> 
> _Runnin' down by the lakeshore_   
>  _She did love the sound of a summer storm_   
>  _It played on the lake like a mandolin_   
>  _Now it's washing her away once again...whoa, again_
> 
> _The boat's steaming in_   
>  _Oh, I watch the sidewheel spin_   
>  _And I think about her when I hear that whistle blow_   
>  _I can't change my mind_   
>  _Oh, I knew all the time that she'd go_   
>  _But that's a choice I made long ago_
> 
> _Listen to the mandolin rain_   
>  _Listen to the music on the lake_   
>  _Ah, listen to my heart break every time she runs away_   
>  _Oh, listen to the banjo wind_   
>  _A sad song drifting low_   
>  _Listen to the tears roll_   
>  _Down my face as she turns to go_   
>  _As she turns to go_   
>  _Listen to the...listen to the mandolin rain_
> 
> _Listen to the tears roll_   
>  _Down my face as she turns to go_   
>  _Listen to the tears roll_   
>  _Down my face as she turns to go_
> 
> _Listen to the mandolin rain._


End file.
